


remainder

by longituddeonda



Series: 1k tumblr follower drabble and ficlet event [4]
Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Heavy Angst, Post-Break Up, Sadness, Self-Hatred, and its your choice to read this, but you know what, it was a request and they said to make it angsty, it's just really angsty i'm sorry, thats my choice to make, to be fair they said 'kinda angsty' and i went for 'really angsty'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23608129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longituddeonda/pseuds/longituddeonda
Summary: anonymous requested the prompt "exes who still live together because money is tight and it just gets really complicated: oops we accidentally kissed and now you’re not talking to me"
Relationships: Javier Peña/Reader
Series: 1k tumblr follower drabble and ficlet event [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1699279
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	remainder

The fact that the embassy still hadn’t found a spare apartment for you to move into yet was definitely your fault. Neither you nor Javier had heeded the warnings of keeping relationships strictly professional, and while the ambassador had been lenient in letting you two remain a together for the time, upon the occasion of the explosive break-up, she was less inclined to kindness and had told you that no extra efforts would be made to find you a single apartment.

Thankfully there was a guest bedroom, into which you had moved for the time being, but it was small and the bed was the smallest, creakiest, uncomfortable thing so you tried to spend as little time possible in the apartment.

Javier and you hadn’t spoken to one another in a couple days, and the last time you had said anything of substance was over two weeks before when Javier brought an informant home and you walked in on them fucking on the couch.

The whole thing had led you to the bar tonight, hoping that you would be returning to an apartment with only one occupant.

As the alcohol settled into your system you weren’t the fun and boisterous drunk you usually were, just a sad and emotional one, replaying all the ways you missed the way Javier and you were before. How in the beginning you would come home to each other’s arms, making dinner together or ordering takeout, smiling and laughing through it all. How you would go out dancing together. How you fell asleep intertwined in each other.

But over time that slowly faded into less contact. You would come home after a long day and instead of telling him about it, you would fume in silence and he would do the same. You started arguing about everything. There were days where you couldn’t stand him, and yet you’d end up in your shared bed every night, even if you were on opposite sides.

Until one day the argument went so far that you couldn’t bear to crawl under the covers next to him, instead choosing to fall asleep on the couch, still in your day clothes, covered by only a scratchy afghan. That was it. The next morning you had told Javier that your relationship couldn’t continue like it was, leading to a shouting match that caused Steve and Connie to come banging on the door, worried someone had gotten hurt. They entered into the wreckage of your relationship, moments after you had said the words “we’re done” and Javier had only nodded. Someone had definitely gotten hurt.

By the time you were stumbling home, crying over what no longer was, you were out of it enough to make some stupid decisions. What those would be you weren’t sure, but as you entered the apartment seeing Javier still awake in the kitchen, making some sort of midnight snack and smiling to himself as a record played softly in the background, that decision cleared up.

He was so beautiful and you missed getting to wrap your arms around him and kiss him any time of the day. Which was what led you to walk up to him as he looked at you with concern and confusion, and planted your lips on his. Sloppy as it was, the kiss was still nice. And to your surprise, Javier started to kiss back. You could taste a little bit of alcohol on his tongue too, so maybe neither of you were truly thinking of the reality of things as you started to make out, but what felt like an eternity later, he was pushing you off, wiping the saliva off his mouth and you were suddenly very nauseous, both with the guilt and the numerous bottles of beer.

The next morning you waited until he left for work before you crawled out of your room, head pounding and hungover. It didn’t matter that you were late.

You returned to your room in the afternoon, not exiting until you needed to make something for dinner. When you did go out, however, it was to a seemingly empty apartment where you stood by the stove making some pasta. Which is exactly when Javier walked out of his own room, first startling you as he slammed a beer bottle on the countertop, then proceeded to avoid eye contact as he pulled another bottle from the fridge along with a container of leftover pizza which he placed in the microwave.

“I’m sorry, Javi,” you said, wanting anything to break the silence. It hurt to remember the times when a kiss like that was just one in a million. And how much you wanted to go back to how things were. But you knew that was a time long gone.

Javier didn’t respond.

The microwave dinged and he grabbed the pizza and a plate and began to walk back to his room.

“Javier, are you going to say anything to me?” you asked. Your voice cracked.

He stopped and turned around, throwing up his arms.

“What do you want me to say?” Javier exclaimed. “That you should have kept your damn distance? That I forgive you? That I’m sorry too? Because I’m not.”

“Javi—”

“You don’t get to fucking ‘Javi’ me,” he said, “This is all we fucking do. We fight and we yell, and I don’t have a damn clue why we’re still doing it now that it’s all over.”

“I don’t want it to be over,” you said.

“Yeah, well, you should have thought about that months ago when we started falling apart.”

“What? Like it’s all my fault?” you asked.

“You’re doing it again. You take any conversation and escalate it. And we never worked in the first place. Neither of us wants to share enough of ourselves to be worth being in a relationship with. I know I’m not. And I’m pretty sure you’re not worthy of one either.”

You stopped whatever words were going to come out of your mouth. You had no idea Javier thought of himself that way. His words about you hurt, but not as much as the burden of knowing the pain of his own self-judgment.

“Javier, you’re more than worthy of a relationship,” you whispered. “You shared so much. I knew that no matter how hard I tried, I wouldn’t be able to share enough to match the weight of the things you shared.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. We’re just a couple of DEA screw-ups who’ve shot too many people to have lives worth something,” he said. “But I guess I was wrong: I am sorry about the kiss. I shouldn’t have led you to believe there was something worth saving.”

You laughed bitterly. “Right. I guess that’s it then. I don’t have anything more I think I can say.”

“Good, because I don’t either.”

You nodded. He didn’t turn back around to continue to his room. You didn’t turn back to the stove.

There was so much left unsaid but you were so damn scared that it would turn into another loud fighting match, leaving you more broken than you already felt. But there was one thing left unsaid that you couldn’t bear alone.

“I miss us, Javi,” you said.

He solemnly nodded. “That makes two of us yearning for something long gone.”

Javier then turned around and disappeared into the black of the hallway, and you only let the tears fall when you heard the open and close of his bedroom door.


End file.
